A Tale of Two Killers
by Magical Who
Summary: A funny story involving the flu and Voldemort. a little HPGW, HGRW, and HGDM. Written by my friend
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, cough drops, or the place where the scene is about to unfold. I do not own some of these puns, the settings, or Voldemort. I don't own the potions mentioned, either. The plot is based on books 1-6, starting at the end of book 5. I do, however, own most if not all of the plot for the drama about to unfold... this disclaimer goes for the rest of the chapters as well, mostly because I don't want to keep re-writing it.

A/N: read and review!

Chapter 1: Cough Drop, Anyone?

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A deep-voiced narrarator said, "Harry Potter, aged 15 years, had just faced off with Bellatrix Lestrange, an escaped Death Eater who murdered Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Bellatrix is now weeping over the smashed prophecy about Harry Potter and her master, Lord Voldemort. No one thus so far knows what the prophecy was, as it was just stolen and destroyed from the Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries."

Harry looked around to see where the deep voice came from. The Ministry of Magic always had that sort of mystical weirdness to it that Harry had become used to in the wizard world. He was puzzled about the whereabouts of the voice for about 2 seconds, and afterwards, he regained his composure. Harry looked around him; however, there was not much time to look since a cloaked, dark figure who Harry knew all too well was approaching him...

This figure was Bellatrix's master, Lord Voldemort. He would have made a very powerful entrance, if it were not for his shaking figure. Harry thought that he heard muffled coughing and sniffing coming from underneath that cloak. Voldemort was obviously trying not to let his coughs echo around the vast room.

"Bellatrix, go, I need not hear your whimpering to me now," he said sharply, but in a wheezy voice. Bellatrix left, too scared of what could happen to her since the mission had failed to notice the difference in her master. He walked slowly, as if in pain, towards Harry.

"Harry," said Voldemort between coughs. His usually high-pitched voice was gone, and was replaced with one of asthmatic breathing and laryngitic symptoms; however, the coldness remained. "We meet again, fo-" Voldemort let out an extremely bronchial sounding cough, and finished with an extremely long sniff. He then resumed, "for the-" only to be interrupted by a severe coughing fit.

Harry, seeing the murderer of his parents in such a state, derisively laughed. Harry did not know what came over him... but somehow, even with his scar burning, he felt that Voldemort was no threat in his condition. The worse Voldemort could do to him was utter the killing curse, Avada Kedavra, but Harry knew that Voldemort could barely speak to do so.

"Stop laughing, b-" Voldemort was again interrupted by a coughing fit.

Harry looked at him. "The great and mighty Voldemort, succumbing to a common Muggle illness? Oh, how the mighty have fallen! Would you like a cough drop?" Harry laughed again. His sickly opponent could not even reply in his state.

Harry continued, "Of course you wouldn't, how silly of me. You hate Muggle anything. But you know, it really would help your case."

Voldemort finished hacking and looked Harry in the eye. Though Harry could not see Voldemort's features, his white-hot burning scar told him that his enemy was staring him down.

Voldemort walked his painful, slow walk towards Harry. "Shut up, boy, or you'll be joining your-" Voldemort stopped, trying to suppress a cough, though the cough was reluctant to be held.

"Ha, ha, good one, Voldy!" said Harry, who, for some reason unknown even to himself, continued to poke fun at his sickly nemesis. "How many times have I heard that 'you'll be seeing your parents soon' threat from you? And how many times has it been carried out? You'd think that perhaps you're never going to make me kick the bucket, as they say."

"You fool!" Voldemort had said this so vehemently that he exploded into another severe coughing fit.

"Yeah, I guess so. Makes me stupid I guess. But, hey, Hermione's the smart one." Harry observed his enemy. Voldemort was coughing so hard that the fit brought him to his knees.

Harry, stupidly, continued. "Oh, yeah, you are pretty old, considering that 50 years ago you were what, 16? You're like, 66 now. But still, you have a cold! ...or the flu... have you ever? Oh, I can't _wait_ to tell Ron!" Harry giggled, still unknown to what force made him do such things.

"HARRY!"

Dumbledore.

"Dumbledo-"

Yes, it was Dumbledore, the famed headmaster of Hogwarts. With a cold fire in his eyes, he looked straight at Voldemort, who, after he attempted to say his name, continued hacking away. "I see that you are not doing well. Then again, you always were ill... ill at heart. Perhaps now it's finally getting to you physically. So, Tom, I ask, before we duel, are you sure that you do not wish a cough drop?"

Voldemort hated his real name, and he could not stand the fact that the only wizard he ever feared used it. But who was he kidding? He was not afraid of Muggle-loving weak-hearted sees-the-best-in-people Dumbledore! He stood up, wand in hand, eying Dumbledore with utmost loathing. Voldemort wondered, though, subconsciously, what the heck a "cough drop" was for some time afterwards.

"Right, then," said Dumbledore calmly, and cheerfully added, "but you know, they're quite soothing to one with a dry or irritated throat. Well, carry on, Tom."

And so, they dueled. It was over in a matter of seconds. Dumbledore won; however, Voldemort had not been brought to his knees by Dumbledore, but by the microscopic virus that had decided that he had made an excellent host. Spells had barely been cast.

"I told you, a cough drop would've done wonders... I particularly fancy the lemon ones...the honey ones are also quite good... not to mention cherry... too bad you won't take one..."

Voldemort picked himself up and held up his wand to Dumbledore, but he heard footsteps and voices in the distance... the distance not too far away. Voldemort knew that staying would risk exposure of himself and his weakness to the wizard world if he stayed, which to him would mean almost worse than death. So, in deep loathing of his weakness, he glared at Harry, whose scar erupted in pain, and then Voldemort, still wondering what the heck a "cough drop" was, Disapparated from the premises, just in time to escape the oncoming crowd.


	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2: Viruses, The Flu, and Fudge... Oh, My!

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The deep-voiced narrarator spoke again, "The strange scene that was unfolded before us was: Dumbledore just faced off the sickly Voldemort, who had just got away from the approaching crowd of Ministry officials by Disapparating. Harry Potter, the-boy-who-was-right (about Voldemort coming back), was laughing. Here, the story continues to unfold."

Fudge was used to the voice, as he was the Minister of Magic. He wished he had not hired Ludo Bagman to do it, though. Commentating at the Triwizard Tournament and the Quidditch World Cup was enough. But commentating on action at the Ministry? Perhaps he had gone too far. He disliked hearing about the flirting that went on between Linda and Frank in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, the sounds of Ludo eating on the job (it sounded like smacking sounds, ew), and when Ludo went to the bathroom worst of all.

But hiring Ludo was the reason why the crowd assembled. They had heard the narration he provided for Voldemort's appearance, along with escaped Death Eater, Bellatrix Lestrange, not to mention something about a "smashed prophecy". So, Fudge assembled a group (which acted more like a mob) of Ministry officials to check it out. Panic was in the mind of all officials. None wanted to find out if Voldemort was in the very building they were in.

Fudge opened the door, expecting to see a deluded Harry Potter and that old crackpot, Dumbledore. The scene he actually saw: Dumbledore, contemplating which cough drops he liked best; Harry, laughing his head off ("I can't WAIT to tell Ron!"), and Voldemort, Disapparating from the premises. Apparently, he Disapparated at the last possible moment.

It was the strangest thing Fudge had seen in a long time. He would have thought about it longer, if it had not been for the fact that Voldemort had been right there in front of him. Despite the fact that Harry was raving, despite the fact Dumbledore was licking his lips at the thought of peppermint cough drops... _they had been right, after all._

Which made Fudge look like the biggest jerk of all time.

In a lime green bowler and matching striped pajamas.

"Hey, Fudge!" said the magically-loud Ludo. "You missed all the fun! Unfortunately, so did I, because at the sight of that Dark dude- MAN, I was SO out of there."

"You speak lightly of You-Know-Who... but more importantly, he was HERE! Right under my nose! In the Ministry of Magic!"

The crowd behind him buzzed him panicky fervor.

Harry stopped laughing, with a final, "can't... wait... tell... Ron... ha ha..." and Dumbledore stopped contemplating at, "...well, I guess vanilla chocolate cough drops are better than cherry cough drops, but really, what about apple-cranberry pie cough drops..."

Fudge glared down Dumbledore.

"Y-y-you!"

"Me," said Dumbledore coolly.

"Don't play games, Dumbledore, I-"

"Forget it, Fudge. I have no intention of taking over your esteemed position of Minister."

"But-but-we have proof! You had an army-"

"Does it make any difference? We have a killer on the loose here!"

"Yes, yes, I know, Voldemort, you were right, after all-"

"No, no, no, I meant the flu."

"The flu, Dumbledore?"

"The flu."

There was a bit of silence after that. Fudge wondered what the heck the flu was while Dumbledore wondered about whether vanilla cough drops were better than chocolate. Harry just stared at the two of them.

"Dumbledore, seriously, we don't have time for Muggle nonsense- the foo or whatever you said-"

"The flu, Fudge, and I recommend we better get some officials to fetch the Muggle anti-virus for it."

"Vi-virus? What are you talking about?"

"It's a common Muggle illness. In the Muggle world, it has been known to kill people if the virus mutated-"

Fudge was enraged. "The FLU? A mutating VIRUS? What are you talking about? I thought Muggle sicknesses do not affect us! So how is this suddenly our main concern? Voldemort is AT LARGE, DUMBLEDORE, IN CASE YOU DON'T REMEMBER!"

Dumbledore took his half-moon specs off his face and cleaned them with his robes. Fudge was clearly frustrated with Dumbledore's calmness.

"I remember quite clearly, Fudge. Yet, in his current condition, I don't think he could hex a puppy, let alone murder."

"What-what are you _talking_ about-"

"I am quite clearly talking about Voldemort's illness."

Fudge flinched at the sound of Voldemort's name, but he was still angry, and now confused. "Illness? What illness? Dumbledore-"

"Yes, Fudge?"

"WHAT ILLNESS!"

"The flu."

"The flu?"

"The flu."

"The flu?"

"Yes, Fudge, I'm quite sure it's the flu, I have read enough Muggle books and seen enough infected Muggles to know it's the flu-"

"THE FLU! Dumbledore, what the heck are you talking about? GET TO THE POINT!"

Dumbledore sighed. "It's pretty clear, Fudge. Voldemort has the flu, a common Muggle illness, which will hinder his actions for the next few days. It will pass, of course, but-"

"You-know-who? Sick? Seems unlikely, Dumbledore..."

"Oh, so that's who was hacking away in here," Ludo piped in boyishly.

"What?" Fudge snapped at him.

"Well, I was doing my job, Fudge, and I saw him approaching, and I ran into the closet there... but I kept hearing all this coughing and sniffing... I thought maybe it was Harry or something... getting jinxed or something... but then Harry's laughing and asking about cough drops... Dumbledore too..."

"Enough. I've heard enough. Is this some sort of-"

"Look, Minister, I swear, do I _look_ jinxed?" asked Harry, annoyed. "No. I saw Voldemort, he was hacking away and coughing and sniffing... it's the flu, if not a cold. My cousin Dudley has it almost every winter... he's not dead yet, unfortunately... but still, he could barely stand, let alone kill me... Voldemort, I mean... though Dudley fits into that category, too..."

"Fudge," said Dumbledore, a little agitatedly, "remember that we were right about Voldemort returning. We are definitely right about Voldemort having the flu."

"But the _flu, _Dumbledore-"

"The flu, Fudge."

"The flu!"

"The flu."

"The flu?"

"The flu."

"The flu," finally sighed Fudge. "Ok, so what are we going to do about it? Maybe it will kill off You-know-who."

"Well, Fudge, it is highly unlikely that the virus could kill him, it's very rare... but still, if it _does _kill him, then we'll have two problems. The first being that if he could return once, he could return again, and the second being that it would be a disease that could infect _and_ kill almost as effectively as Voldemort kills... if not better."

Silence.

"The flu?" said Fudge incredulously. He thought the worst of his problems would be Voldemort until today.

"The flu."

_Great_, thought Fudge,_ great. Now we have more problems. As if St. Mungo's wasn't full enough. _

"But there is a solution, Fudge."

"What?"

"We need the anti-virus."

"What is a _virus_, Dumbledore? I still have no clue what-"

"It's an extremely tiny microorganism. It attaches itself to the very basic parts of your body, namely, cells, and takes over. It inserts a bit of information of itself in there- DNA- and it incubates more viruses inside your cells. Then, lysogeny occurs- which is when the cell explodes, releasing thousands of more viruses into your body. And since viruses are so small, they are contagious- they can infect you just because you breathe... of course, exercising cleaner habits helps prevent the contagion from sticking around..."

This thought terrified Fudge. An enemy you couldn't see...but a way to defeat it...

With this thought in mind, he bid good-night to Dumbledore, and began thinking of his next act as Minister...


	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3: Clean-up Crews and Voldemort

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"SCRUB HARDER!"

Fudge had been running a tighter ship around the Ministry. Yes sir, there was no way a deadly virus would attack him, that's for sure... at first, Fudge had hired a team of teenage wizards to clean the halls and offices, particularly his own, as a summer job. The teens, however, became a nuisance, screaming, "Scourgify!" at everything that moved, and some teens tried flirting with Linda in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department, which caused an incident with Frank, who usually occupied the space doing the same thing. Even boyish Ludo couldn't stand having cries of "Scourgify!" interrupt his daily commentary and announcements.

Apparently, Fudge couldn't take hearing the constant, "Scourgify!" every time one of them ran past Ludo (Ludo's voice carried over every office, every nook and cranny in the building, including Fudge's office). The Ministry employees noticed that the number of teenage wizards had decreased as quickly as it had increased: in a matter of a week.

The next tactic Fudge attempted was sending every house-elf available to clean everything. Some employees, however, had joined Hermione's S.P.E.W. (an elf-rights group), and boycotted the use (or as they put it, misuse) of house-elves. Fudge eventually took away the house elves.

But Fudge's latest tactic was the worst yet. He had every employee scrubbing the floor, the ceiling, the walls, the workspace... common Muggle cleaning, no magic. He claimed it would be more thorough. He implemented new rules, also:

1. Each employee must wash their hands... EVERY HOUR, ON THE HOUR

2. Each employee must wear a protective suit EVERY DAY and have it washed EVERY DAY

3. Each employee must scrub their workspace after entering or leaving.

It had come down to this- the replacement of magic with Muggle labor. Fudge was clearly obsessed.

Dumbledore, since he was on summer break, came down to visit Fudge. He entered the Ministry gracefully. He planned to talk with Fudge about how the search for the anti-virus for the flu was going, only to find that 50, maybe 60 wizards and witches were on their knees in protective suits, scrubbing away like Muggles.

Dumbledore suppressed a laugh. My, my, this was strange. But so predictable. Fudge's paranoia had taken over.

"Excuse me," said Dumbledore politely to a scrubbing wizard, "can you tell me where Fudge is?"

"You'll hear him soon enough-" the wizard said, interrupted by a command, "WEATHERBY, SCRUB _HARDER_, I SAY! _HARDER_!"

Dumbledore looked at Fudge. He was fidgeting his lime-green bowler, looking positively freaked out. Yup, he was paranoid, alright.

"Hello, Fudge."

"D-d-dumbled-dore. H-how p-p-pleasant," Fudge fidgeted nervously.

"I came to talk with you about the flu."

When Fudge heard the word "flu", he jumped back nearly five feet onto a poor witch trying to scrub the floor.

"S-so sorry, dear," muttered Fudge, picking himself up. Dumbledore grinned at Fudge.

"If I didn't know better, Fudge, I would say you were more afraid of the flu than Voldemort." Fudge nearly had a heart attack when he heard both "the flu" and "Voldemort" in the same sentence, again landing on the poor witch scrubbing.

"That's-that's preposterous, silly even, Dumbledore," smiled Fudge unconvincingly, "why would I be afraid of a silly little invisible virus that could kill me?"

"Exactly my thoughts, Fudge. Well, I learned that there is a flu vaccine- an anti-virus- and it still exists. I'm sure we can get it if we go to a Muggle hospital to be immunized... meaning, of course, that the flu could not affect you. However, there's not enough to go around, so if we can get a Muggle doctor to give us a sample, I'm sure we can duplicate it."

Fudge, at the prospect of being invincible to the invisible menace, agreed it would be the best solution.

"How do we get a hold of it?"

"Well, by simply attaining a Muggle doctor. The flu is the least of the Muggle world's worries, as it is a rather common illness, so I'm sure it'd be simple to find a doctor. I could even ask one of my Muggle-born students whose parent is a doctor if the parent would give us the vaccine."

There was a silence.

"Ok, Dumbledore. No tricks, though!"

"No tricks. Speaking of no tricks, Fudge, I recommend that these poor wizards and witches return to life as normal here in the Ministry. When I said 'exercise cleaner habits', I meant washing your hands and such, not get on your knees and scrub... though it does provide a laugh. Good day." Dumbledore left the Ministry, eyes glowing in delight, but also with purpose.

Meanwhile...

"Wormtail, come closer," said a slightly wheezy voice.

The one called Wormtail came to his ill master.

"Y-y-yes, m-master?" he squeaked in fear of his master.

"It would seem that this weakness of mine only makes me stronger." His master let out a weak cough, followed by a sniff.

"What do you mean, m-master?"

Voldemort smiled. "This disease I have has caused much panic in the wizard world. If you have heard about Fudge, that imbecile at the Ministry, the thought about me, the most powerful wizard alive, catching a common Muggle illness, scared him nearly to death. He has all his employees scrubbing floors, all because I had a few coughs and sneezes." He sniffed. "This is going better than expected, Wormtail. Much better... you aren't going to leave me yet, Wormtail? _Crucio_!" he watched the writhing Wormtail with pleasure. Perhaps Harry would be next... no, not perhaps. He _would _be next if all went according to plan...


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4: Harry's Departure

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Harry awoke at the Dursleys, with his scar burning. This was not unusual, as he knew he dreamed about Voldemort... again. He remembered the dream perfectly. Wormtail was being told of a plan that Voldemort thought was going better than expected... because of his illness? Interesting, Harry thought. It also wasn't unusual that Voldemort was plotting Harry's death, since, well, when wasn't he?

Harry put his glasses on. He'd been at the Dursleys for about two weeks since the Ministry incident, and Voldemort was recovering from his illness. Harry wondered if he could catch the flu, too, since Voldemort had used Harry's own blood to resurrect himself from... whatever he was.

Harry didn't really want to think of this, though. He knew now that he was the only one who could kill Voldemort... after the Ministry incident, Dumbledore had taken him back to his office and showed him the prophecy Voldemort had so desperately wanted. Harry knew that eventually, he would either be the murderer or the murdered.

Harry hoped it wouldn't be the last one.

It was nearly 11. Harry's birthday was the following day. That meant that he would be headed to Ron's. He would give Ron and Hermione an oral account of the events at the Ministry. They were both there, but they didn't see the sick Voldemort... Harry wondered if Voldemort's condition would frighten Ron as it did Fudge. He read in the Prophet that Fudge might be sacked any day now for 1) not believing Harry (Harry smirked a little when reading this and thought _I told you so)_ and 2) forcing the labor of every official in the Ministry in common Muggle work. It looked like his replacement (if he was sacked) would be Rufus Scrimegour.

Harry wondered how he was getting to the Weasley's this time. Before his second year at Hogwarts, Fred, George, and Ron rescued Harry from his room with the Ford Angela. Year three, Harry had left on his own and found the Weasleys in Diagon Alley. Year four, Mr. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ron used Floo Powder to retrieve Harry. Year five, a group of Aurors sent the Dursleys off to an award ceremony for a contest that did not exist to rescue him.

Now, it was time to see what would happen this time.

Harry then remembered: Dumbledore was taking him. Dumbledore told him in a letter that he inherited all of Sirius Black's possessions, including a disgruntled house-elf, Kreacher. Kreacher was sent by Harry to work in the school kitchens at Hogwarts. Dumbledore also said that he was going to get classes from him at Hogwarts this year, but about what, Harry didn't know. Dumbledore said it would help him fight Voldemort.

But what about the flu?

The Dursleys would laugh themselves to death if Harry told them he was worried about catching the flu. They already thought he was strange... he didn't need to prove it.

Well, it wouldn't matter if Dumbledore found the anti-virus.

11 o'clock.

Doorbell rang.

Dumbledore.

Harry panicked and threw everything he could into his school trunk.

He panicked even more when he remembered that he didn't tell the Dursleys that Dumbledore was coming to take him away.

"WHO'S CALLING AT THIS BLOODY TIME OF NIGHT!" screamed Uncle Vernon.

Harry ran down the stairs and saw Dumbledore in the doorway.

"Good evening. I'll take it Harry told you about my arrival?"

The unfriendly silence lasted until Dumbledore said politely with a smile, "Well, I'll take it he did not." He stepped in. "Ready to go, Harry?"

Harry bolted upstairs, finished packing, and bolted back downstairs. Harry nearly tripped over himself twice.

"Farewell. But before I actually leave, I must tell you that you should let Harry come back here one more year before the magic I placed on this house runs out. He comes of age next year, at 17 years of age. Thank you for your hostility- I mean, hospitality." Dumbledore left a few cough drops in a bowl he conjured up on the Dursleys' perfectly clean kitchen counter.

"They're an assortment of my favorite flavors. They're only cough drops. Ta!"

Dudley, Harry's overweight cousin, eyed them fearfully. The last time he ate anything a wizard left behind, his tongue became four feet long. This was one treat he was going to avoid at all costs.

Dumbledore took Harry's hand and Disapparated (Dumbledore Disapparated, he brought Harry along) and appeared at the Burrow.

"This is where I leave you, Harry: you are in good hands now." Dumbledore Disapparated again, leaving Harry at the Burrow.


	5. Chapter 5

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A/N: this is a mixture of strangeness. Enjoy!

Chapter 5: Old Friends, Old Habits, Hints of Oddness, and an Unlikely Couple

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Harry arrived at the Weasleys on his birthday. Harry was attacked with presents and warm welcomes... and for details at what happened at the Ministry. Harry told all details, but only told Ron and Hermione the details of the prophecy. Harry preferred not to talk about Sirius, but he was all too eager to spill the beans about Voldemort's illness. Ron, Harry, and Hermione all received their O.W.L.'s.

"Oh, Ron," said Harry, "I never told you. Voldemort was sick! It was hilarious. He couldn't even lift a finger at me. I even called him 'Voldy'! I don't know what came over me."

"You serious? You called him 'Voldy'? To his _face?_ Ha ha!"

Hermione looked at them both disapprovingly. "You shouldn't have done that, Harry, you could've gotten killed!"

"Lighten up Hermione," said Ron. "It's not every day you can walk up to a mass-murderer and laugh at him to his face."

That didn't sit well with Hermione.

"He couldn't even attack back, Hermione, it's not like I was in danger!"

"Oh, Harry, you are impossible!"

Silence.

"Is it true Dumbledore offered him a cough drop?"

"Yep, and then he started contemplating which ones he liked best. I didn't even know apple-cranberry pie cough drops even existed."

Hermione grinned.

"But there is something you two should know: I saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to GEICO!"

Awkward silence.

"Oops, wrong script. Wait, wrong script? I don't even do GEICO commercials in America... who _wrote_ this? Well, anyway, I did want to tell you both something. Yesterday morning, my scar hurt. Old news, right? Well, anyway, I should tell you that Voldemort has a plan, and he thinks because of his illness, it's going better than expected."

"Harry, you are _supposed_ to be trying to block this stuff out-"

"Yeah, yeah, Occlumency with Snape. Not taking it this year, remember? Well, anyway, because he was sick, he's happy. You'd think any weakness would freak him out."

"Well, Harry, look at what's happening at the Ministry. Panic. It's even better than he expected. They'll be caught unaware of Voldemort as he grows in power again because of a stupid virus. I mean, it is unusual that a wizard got sick, like a Muggle illness, but really..."

"'Ermione!"

Ginny entered the room. Hermione jumped back twelve feet at the sound of Ginny.

"Oh, good, it's only you."

"Yeah. Phlegm is being held up in the kitchen by Bill."

"Phlegm?"

Ginny and Hermione looked at each other.

"Well," Ginny said, "Phlegm... Fleur Delacour. Engaged to Bill."

"She is so annoying!" yelled Hermione exasperatedly.

"Who ees?"

Hermione jumped. There was Fleur, pretty as ever.

"Oh, I- didn't hear you come in- well, if you must know it's um, Pansy Parkington. Malfoy's girlfriend. She um, thinks I'm um, not good enough for him. She thinks I should back away from her territory, but you know, he doesn't _really_ belong to her."

Harry thought that he could've come up with a better lie.

"Oh," said Fleur, apparently buying it, "Well, deener ees almost ready."

Fleur left. Ron looked at Hermione, astounded at the contents of the lie.

"Not good enough for Malfoy?" Ron asked.

"I couldn't think of anything else on the spur of the moment!"

"_Malfoy_?"

"Oh, shut up, Ron!" Hermione left.

"Harry, did you hear that? _Malfoy_? 'Back away from her territory'? You think she's not telling us everything?"

Harry did not want to think about what life would be like in a world where Hermione and Malfoy were a couple.

Luckily, that aired on the side of impossible. Harry seemed to think that Ron dwelled a little too much on it.

After dinner and birthday cake, Ron was still dwelling on the prospect of Hermione and Malfoy. Harry had to shut him up.

"Ron, think about it. Malfoy called Hermione a Mudblood. He's on more than one occasion spoken about how all Muggle-borns are the equivalent to dirt. He even hoped that Hermione, especially, was the first Muggle-born to die from the basilisk second year. Hermione hates his guts. How likely is it for the both of them to pair up?"

Ron paused. "You're right, mate. How stupid of me."

"I knew you'd come to your senses. Good-night, Ron."

"Good night, mate."

Ron, however, did not come to his senses. Ron kept dreaming that Hermione was going out with Malfoy.

_Shut up, Ron, you're not the boss of me. Besides, Malfoy is hot. We were meant to be together,_ Hermione would say over and over again.

_But Hermione, I love you, and you know this is stupid_, Ron would keep saying.

_You're love means nothing to me, you blood-traitor. Why don't you hang out with that stupid Potter kid and leave Draco and me alone_, said Hermione. Then she would walk off with Malfoy, laughing and having a grand old time. Ron would wake up and re-dream it, only with slight variations and exaggerations. By the next morning, Ron was convinced Hermione was in love with Malfoy.

Hermione was convinced otherwise.


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6: Voldemort Schemes

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"My lord, you called?"

A cloaked man with a drawling voice was before Voldemort.

"Yes," said a cold voiced Voldemort. His voice sent chills up the man's back. Voldemort had made a temporary recovery. "You are one of my most faithful servants, and excellent with potions. I wish to thank you for that cure from that disease. Yet, I have another mission for you. I trust you."

"Yes, my lord. Thank you. I will not fail you."

"You better not. You know what will happen if you do."

"Yes, I am quite aware."

"Good. Now, is the potion nearly ready?"

"It will take one more week."

"Excellent. My plan is working so well... I can't have Potter ruining it. He has a nasty habit of ruining good plans," said Voldemort.

"I have experience with that," said the man loathsomely. "Careless with rules, terrible at school, show-off at Quidditch.. he's just like his father," the man spat.

"Yes, Severus. He has the same spirit in him. You will need to keep Potter out of the way for a while, as you know. How do you plan on doing that?"

"I supposed we could lure him away. He feels he needs to be a hero, have all the attention... like his father. I supposed on using the Weasley girl. But of course, there is the problem of retrieving the girl..."

"That's not that hard, Severus. A silly little girl does not pose much of a threat to me. She could be put under the Imperius Curse and brought to me, and I could deal with things from there."

Snape considered. "Yes. But I can't just walk in and take her."

"Then I will send one who can. Her father works at the Ministry. I will get MacNair to use the Imperius Curse on the girl's father, who can fetch his daughter... preferably when she's asleep. Severus, make me a powerful sleeping draught for the occasion. I don't want her waking up in the middle of this and scream."

"Yes, my lord."

"And fetch MacNair."

"Yes, my lord."

"That's all Severus."

Snape bowed and Disapparated.

"Nagini," hissed Voldemort. Nagini came as commanded.

"Oh, Nagini, I have a tassssk for you, a ssssimple tasssk," he hissed in Parseltongue, stroking her, "I want you to keep an eye on Dumbledore for me. Don't get caught, and don't kill him. I have sssssent one to do that already, when the time hasssss come. I promisssse, Nagini, you will have fresh meat ssssoon."

"Yesssss, massster," hissed Nagini. The snake slithered off to do her master's work.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort hissed, "you shall not escape the power of Lord Voldemort much longer, this I guarantee."


	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7: The Draco Malfoy Connection

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By now, Hermione had forgotten all about the lie she told Phlegm. She went downstairs to find Ron and Harry discussing which gourmet cough drop was their favorite.

"You know, I think Dumbledore could open up a shop with these babies," whispered Ron.

"'Morning, Ron," said Hermione groggily.

"That it is, Hermione," he said a little frigidly, without turning his head.

Hermione was slightly taken aback by this rather cold greeting.

"Morning, Hermione," said Harry.

Hermione shook off the frost. "What are you guys doing?"

"We're talking about Dumbledore's cough drops. We reckon if he opened up a shop and sold them, he could be as successful as Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!" Harry said.

"Yeah, they are rather tasty," said Hermione, "I particularly like the chocolate ones. They would be useful with the flu epidemic."

"Yeah," said Ron indifferently.

"Ron, are you ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine, Hermione."

Ginny came downstairs, yawning.

"Ah, good, Gin, you're awake. Which one's your favorite?" Ron asked eagerly. Hermione noticed the change in temperature.

"The Bat-Bogey Hex. That's my favorite one on Malfoy."

"No, Gin," Ron said, the tone in his voice changing a little more seriously at mention of Malfoy, "cough drops."

"Oh! I really like the strawberry ice cream one."

"Really? That's the same one Harry likes."

Ginny blushed a little. "Oh, really? Cool. I guess that means Harry and I will eat them all together. Which one, Hermione?"

Hermione was spaced out. Why was Ron treating her so strangely?

"Hermione?"

"What?" Back to Planet Reality.

"Your favorite?"

"Chocolate _frost_ing." Hermione emphasized "frost", but Ron, being a boy unable to detect such subtleties, did not notice. She stood up after staring at Ron confusedly, hoping to find the answer to his treatment of her perhaps in his face.

"Hermione?"

"Ginny, I have to tell you something about... um... Phlegm."

Ginny and Hermione went upstairs.

"Yeah, right, like they haven't talked about her enough," Ron said grumpily.

"Ron? Is something wrong?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no, nothing, it's... nothing."

_How convincing_, Harry thought sarcastically. Harry remembered yesterday's incident with Phlegm.

"Ron, is this about Malfoy?"

Ron jumped a little and answered too quickly, "No!" Harry stared at Ron. "Well, ok... yeah. Harry, I kept dreaming that Hermione was going out with him, and I kept telling her that I lov- didn't approve and she didn't care, Harry, and it kept getting worse as the night went on."

"Didn't I tell you the Draco-Malfoy connection didn't exist? Ron, now you've got her feeling all bad over nothing. Ron, it's so- look, let's just forget it. Perhaps if you pretend that you didn't dream it, it'll go away and Hermione won't remember how you treated her."

"But, Harry-"

"What?"

"I can't forget."

"Why not?"

"Because... well, it hurt me, Harry."

"Wouldn't you want to forget that, then?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Ron, why don't you just daydream that everything was going your way? Just forget it! The Draco Malfoy Connection DOESN'T EXIST- hi, Hermione, hi Gin."

Ron jumped and looked at Hermione, who had just come back with Ginny from upstairs.

"The 'Draco Malfoy Connection'? Ron, what the heck-"

"Ok, so I had a dream about you going out with Malfoy. I suppose I'd feel a little weird after that."

A strange pause followed.

"Malfoy? Me and Malfoy? Oh, Ron! Like I'd ever go out with that distressed Backstreet Boy!" Hermione unconvincingly laughed.

Ron eased up, though he wasn't completely convinced. Wondering what a "backstreet boy" was, he forgot about the Draco Malfoy Connection... for now.


	8. Chapter 8

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A/N: sorry, this chapter was a little messed up before, to no fault of anyone but that of the computer. This is the beginning of a short trilogy of corrections. Enjoy!

Chapter 8: The Imperius Works its Wonders

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Arthur Weasley was just ready to leave work. He was gathering papers he needed to bring home with him and put them as neatly as possible into his bag. The building was pretty empty by now. In fact, it was a little too empty. It wasn't too surprising, though. With Voldemort returning and an outbreak of the flu in the wizard world, people wanted to be with their families.

Arthur was just about to Disapparate when MacNair, a man who worked in a department for Magical Creatures, approached, calling Arthur. 

"Arthur! Arthur, I need to talk to you. Spare a minute?"

Arthur agreed and they went into MacNair's office. When they got there, MacNair locked the door and pulled out his wand. Before Arthur had time to react, MacNair cried, "Imperio!" and put Arthur Weasley under the Imperius Curse. 

"Well done," said a disembodied, cold, high pitched voice which echoed around the room. 

Voldemort's voice.

"Now, tell him to go home. Severus has almost completed the sleeping draught."

Arthur didn't fight the curse. He didn't know how. So, Arthur, under the direction of the curse, Apparated home. 

At the Burrow, Molly was looking at the clock, waiting for the arrival of her husband.

"Oh, good, your father's coming home," said Molly. She was looking at her clock which told her what condition or where the members of her family are. The clock had been pointing towards "mortal peril" for all members of the family ever since Voldemort returned and the outbreak of the flu occurred. The hand that showed Arthur Weasley now was pointed towards "traveling".

A knock on the door signaled Arthur's arrival. 

"Hello, honey," Arthur said, entering, as Molly kissed him on the cheek. "What's for dinner?"

"Well, tonight, we're having meatballs." Molly paused. "I thought I told you already."

"Oh, I must have forgotten. It was quite a day at work. Everything is finally starting to sink in. We have new reports of wizards bewitching medallions that are supposedly for protection against dark creatures, but really puts you in bed for a week... I could use some sleep, too." Arthur yawned. 

"Well, sleepyhead, you can go to bed after dinner, which is now ready." With the flick of her wand, the table was perfectly set and dinner appeared on the table. 

So, they ate. Ron and Hermione were still feeling uncomfortable around each other, which left Harry to be Ron's source of conversation and Ginny to be Hermione's. Conversation was quite strained on that end of the table. 

As there were so many breaks in the conversation, Harry took time to notice what was going on. Fleur was tickling Bill's chin as they ate, Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley were discussing Ron's O.W.L's., Hermione was trying hard to avoid Ron by talking as much as possible to Ginny about love potions. Ginny was obviously not listening, as her eyes were glazed over and she showed every symptom of being bored to death. Ron was talking to Harry, who wasn't listening to whatever he said. Harry looked over to Ginny. 

"Gin," Harry whispered. Ron didn't notice. "Gin."

Ginny looked suddenly alert and looked straight at Harry. 

"Being bored to death, too?"

"Yes."

"Follow my lead," Harry whispered to her, getting up.

"Mrs. Weasley, that was really good, but I feel really tired right now, so I'm going to go to bed."

Mrs. Weasley stopped her conversation with Arthur and smiled at Harry.

"Ok, Harry dear, just put the plate and fork into the sink." As Harry walked by, she motherly kissed him on the forehead. "Good night, Harry."

Harry put his plate and fork into the sink. Ron was silent now that Harry was gone. He changed his method of non-communication with Hermione by shoveling food down his throat as quickly as possible. Ginny had followed Harry's lead and left the table as well, so Hermione was left to awkwardly try to talk with Ron. She eventually gave up and left the table as well. 

As Harry was going upstairs, he heard Ginny coming up after. 

"Harry! Thank you for saving my life," Ginny panted.

"Well, dying of boredom is a pretty terrible way to die. Besides, Hermione would never forgive herself." Harry and Ginny laughed. For a moment, their eyes met, which made Harry's heart jump, but he quickly ignored it. 

"Well, I suppose I better really get to bed," said Ginny with a smile. "Hermione is bound to give up soon enough, and she won't be too happy I left unless I really was tired."

"G'night, Gin."

Ginny bade him good night and went to her room. Sure enough, Hermione came up the stairs a little while after, flustered. 

"G'night, Hermione."

She bade him a sharp good night, mumbling about how impossible Ron was.

Harry, deciding not waiting for Ron in the cramped hallway, waited inside the bedroom for Ron. Ron didn't come enter the room until much later.

"Ron! What kept you?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Dad wanted me to bring up a cup of pumpkin juice for Ginny and Hermione. He said pumpkin juice was proven in a study from the Ministry to help fight off and prevent the flu. He made me bring you one, too." Ron handed Harry a goblet full of pumpkin juice. "Here, mate."

Harry finished the cup and crawled into bed, and quickly felt extremely comfortable and fell into a deep sleep. 

As did Molly, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny.


	9. Chapter 9

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A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter! This is another corrected chapter. R&R, please!

Chapter 9: Ginny's Kidnapping

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"Ah, they are all asleep. Perfect. MacNair, now tell the father to bring the girl to me."

"My lord... no disrespect, but couldn't we just fetch Potter?"

Voldemort contemplated the idea. "No. Bring only the girl to me. Severus, how long will they be asleep?"

"Twelve hours."

"Excellent." Voldemort looked thoughtfully at Snape.

"Is the Polyjuice Potion complete?"

"Only two more hours, and it should be ready... of course, we'll need the hair, but the rest will be ready and waiting for it."

"Perfect. We'll have the girl soon enough, so Potter will come only shortly after. I'll make sure of that. We will need the girl's hair as well." Voldemort dismissed his subjects. Nagini slithered onto his lap, and Voldemort began stroking her.

"Potter... you will be mine."

Meanwhile...

_Get up._

Arthur Weasley responded immediately to the command.

_Get the girl._

Arthur made his way to Hermione and Ginny's bedroom. He saw the girl indicated and picked her up. She was still asleep from the sleeping draught he put strategically in her pumpkin juice.

_Bring her outside, to me. _

Arthur Apparated outside with Ginny in his arms. He saw the man he was looking for: dark cloak, mark of a Death Eater on the left arm, wand in hand.

_Leave her here. _

Arthur placed her on the ground.

_Drink the sleeping draught you gave the others once you reach your bedroom. Get into bed while you drink it. _

Arthur followed the command. Once Arthur was safely asleep in bed like the rest of them, MacNair lifted the curse. He lifted his wand saying, "_Obliterate_," erasing Arthur's memory of the day. The effects would wear off along with the sleeping draught, and he would not remember his actions.

MacNair smiled, thinking how brilliant his master was. The Dark Lord did not want Arthur killed because they might need him again. Once he stopped proving useful, he would be killed, of course.

MacNair Apparated to the girl, took her hand, and Apparated to his master.

At his fortress, Voldemort smiled, knowing the success of MacNair's mission. "MacNair was successful," Voldemort whispered softly, dangerously, triumphantly. "Well done with the potion, Severus. You shall be rewarded."

"Thank you, my lord."

Suddenly, a loud pop was heard as MacNair Apparated into the room.

"I've got her, my lord." He held up Ginny's arm, as though it were a fish he'd caught. Her arm hung limp in his hand, as she was still asleep.

"Excellent. You will receive your reward in due time. Put her in the basement. When she wakes up, MacNair, put her under the Imperius curse. She will prove useful. Ah, Nagini," Voldemort cooed to the snake at the same time MacNair Disapparated to the basement to put Ginny in chains. He spoke chillingly soft in Parsletongue to Nagini, who in return, spoke back in similar tones. Then, he directed his attention to Wormtail, who was cowering in the corner. "Wormtail, Nagini is hungry. Won't you get something for her?"

Wormtail nervously squeaked out "Yes, my lord," and scurried off to find her food.

"I have been told interesting news. It would seem that Dumbledore has found a Muggle who would give him the anti-virus for the flu," he said aloud, in a soft, cold voice. It hinted a tone of anger. The sound of his voice made his subjects shiver.

"Luckily, Nagini killed the Muggle and prevented Dumbledore from ruining my plans."

A pause and a few silent sighs of relief passed around the room.

"I thought I employed someone to prevent Dumbledore from interfering... ah, yes, Lucius, who got himself thrown into Askaban after failing his mission at the Ministry. I am still not pleased with the thought of not knowing the prophecy I dwelled on for a year... Potter ruined everything!...but he won't be interfering with me soon enough."

"Who will take his place, my lord?"

Voldemort contemplated this for a while.

"Draco. His son."


	10. Chapter 10

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A/N: This is the last of the small trilogy of corrections. Please, R&R!

Chapter 10: Missing

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Ginny awoke with a dizzying start. She looked around her, expecting to be in her bed in her room, watching Hermione make her bed (Hermione always got up at 6, and when she was done with her morning routine, she would make her bed).

This is not what Ginny saw. She was not in bed, but on a dirty floor in chains. There was a small window near the ceiling on the wall, which was the only source of light, other than behind a door up the flight of steps in the room. It smelled of mold, and there were dead rats and bones scattered about on the floor. There was also dried blood in many places. She took all of this in in only five seconds or less.

_Where am I?_ Ginny thought fearfully.

The question was left unanswered as a man in a dark cloak made his way toward her. He seemed familiar, but the cloak disguised him.

"_Imperio!_" the man said, pointing his wand at Ginny.

Immediately, Ginny felt the effects of the curse. She, like her father, did not know how to fight it.

_Stay here,_ a voice echoed inside her head. Ginny obeyed. The man left the room and came back with a goblet with some sort of potion in it.

_Drink this. _She immediately drank it and fell asleep. The man pulled out a few out her hairs and put them in a small, crystal, green vial.

Simultaneously at the Burrow, Harry woke up with a disorienting start. He had a feeling that something wasn't right. He looked over at Ron, who was peacefully snoring, muttering something about Hermione in his sleep. The sun was just visible from the window. But Harry knew something wasn't right. He didn't hear Hermione up and about, reading or whatever she does at 6 am every day. He didn't hear pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, meaning breakfast was being cooked. He didn't even hear Mr. Weasley getting ready for work. It seemed that no one but himself was awake.

He got up and went to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room. They were both sound asleep, Mr. Weasley looking even more worn out than Mrs. Weasley. His clothes from yesterday were still on. Harry frowned, wondering why Mr. Weasley didn't even change. He then went to Hermione and Ginny's room. Hermione was snoozing, an unusual behavior for her, and Ginny was gone!

He had to wake someone up. Ginny was gone! Where could she have been? _Don't panic, she may be still here_, Harry thought to himself. He went downstairs. It was empty, and Harry felt a cold, stagnant draft. He checked the kitchen, the dining room...no one. He finally went outside. No Ginny. She was most definitely missing. He went to check the clock about Ginny's condition. It said "away", not "mortal peril", though Harry was pretty sure that if the clock had two hands per person, it'd be pointing there, to.

He went back into the house. He heard a footsteps, which meant someone was awake. It was coming from Ron's bedroom.

Harry bolted back up the stairs, his heart racing. He almost ran into Ron, who looked very awake seeing Harry bolting towards him at top speed.

"AHHHHHH!" Ron had not been expecting Harry to nearly run him over. Neither did Harry.

"Ron, something's wrong. No one is awake. Not Hermione, not your parents... and Ginny is gone!"

"Gone? Where to?"

"No, Ron," Harry said in a tone Hermione often used to scold Ron, "I mean she's _gone_. As in not here at all. Missing."

Ron's eyes bulged in panic. "Gone?"

"Yes, Ron. Gone. And in danger."

Ron bolted upstairs to Ginny's room at a speed nearing Harry's when he ran up the stairs. A small scream signaled that Ron had nearly ran over Hermione. Harry ran upstairs to join them.

"Ron, you scared me!" Hermione gasped.

"Hermione, Ginny's gone."

"W-what?"

"Ginny's gone. She's no where to be found."

"WHAT? Why, we can't just stand here, we have to tell Mrs. Weasley!"

"Tell me what?" asked Mrs. Weasley cheerfully. "My, I haven't slept so well in so long, but it's so late-"

"She's gone."

"Who?"

"Ginny. Harry looked everywhere, she's not here," said Ron.

Mrs. Weasley's smile faded quickly.

"She's gone? My baby's missing? Oh dear, oh dear! ARTHUR! ARTHUR!"

Arthur Weasley woke up with a groggily quick start. He had a headache. He quickly realized that he was late for work. He soon heard Molly's panicky voice crying his name hysterically.

"What, what is it, dear?" he said.

"Ginny, she's gone! She's missing! What are we going to do, Arthur?"

"Ginny's missing?" The words went through him. He felt like he knew something about it, but he wasn't quite sure. He couldn't remember. Realizing the seriousness of the event, he quickly dressed and headed off to work.

"I'll get several Aurors on the case. Mad-Eye, Tonks, and Lupin said they would stop by later today with the children's school things. Trust me, they will know by then." Arthur, after quickly kissing his wife on the cheek, quickly Disapparated.

Harry knew something wasn't right, aside from Ginny's being missing. How come everyone woke up at the same time? Hermione would surely have been awake by the time Ginny was found missing. Mrs. Weasley would've been cooking breakfast by then. Mr. Weasley would've been on his way to work. Not today, though. They all woke up at nearly the same time...

Harry suddenly realized something. But he had to check first.

"Hermione, you got up pretty late today."

"Yes, Harry... I set my alarm clock to 6, but I guess I didn't hear it. I was pretty tired last night, especially after drinking that pumpkin juice... but you know, you do get tired after eating and drinking."

"Hermione, what are the effects of a sleeping draught? A really powerful one that would last for, say, eight or hours or more?"

Hermione was a little shocked at Harry's sudden interest, but was more than happy to tell.

"Harry, don't you ever pay attention in Potions? Well, anyway, you fall into a deep, dreamless sleep nearly immediately after consumption. Everything feels comfortable and dreamy. When you wake up, it is immediately with slight confusion, depending on how potent the dose is... a more complex one that lasts for eight or more hours, would apply here..." Suddenly, it dawned on Hermione, too.

"Harry," Hermione began slowly, "are you saying that we had a sleeping draught last night?"

"How else could all this have happened? I think it's more than a coincidence, Hermione; you slept in TWO hours, and you went to bed EARLY. You're like a Swiss clock, you're never a minute off, which makes it strange you got up so late..."

"But, Harry," Ron began, "... wait, a Swiss clock? What the heck is... well, anyway, how could anyone slip us a sleeping draught? We're at my house."

"Well," said Harry, thinking up a theory, "perhaps... perhaps... the pumpkin juice was spiked, as we all fell immediately asleep afterwards... it was pretty early for us to turn in, Ron, seeing as we're usually awake until one in the morning (Hermione looked disapprovingly at Harry and Ron)... and... whoever gave it to us-"

"But Harry, my dad gave it to me, directly. I even saw him pour it into the goblets with his wand and and everything. My dad wouldn't have-"

"Unless it wasn't your dad, Ron," Harry concluded. "Or your dad wasn't himself last night."


	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter 11: Curses and Dreams

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Ginny Weasley woke up on her own, without the help of the Imperius Curse.

_I've got to get out of here,_ Ginny panicked. When she got up, she realized she wasn't chained to the wall. In fact, she wasn't even tied up or restricted in any way.

"Hello," said a cold, high-pitched voice. "Remember me?"

She looked at him and saw his face for the first time since she met his sixteen year old self in the Chamber of Secrets.

"Voldemort, I presume?" Ginny began, feeling most unlike herself. "Geez, no wonder why Harry's scar hurts every time he sees you- you're _ugly_. In my first year, you were actually kind of cute. What _happened_? Oh, yeah, it was just your memory... I guess old age _is _cruel, after all..."

"I took the Imperius Curse off you and removed your chains and this is how you thank me?" Voldemort said angrily. "_Crucio!_"

Ginny felt extreme pain.

"Stupid, silly little girl. The only reason I keep you alive is because I need you."

"Why, Voldemort, this is so sudden-" Ginny blushed and giggled.

"No," snapped Voldemort angrily, "not that way. Anyway, I will not reveal to you the details. I will say, however, that you will not be able to escape, even if you tried, for if you do, Nagini or one of my loyal subjects will kill you, though I'd much prefer you to be alive, and I'm sure you would, too."

"Who's Nagini?" Ginny teased. "Is she your _girlfriend?_"

"NO! You shall regret that! _Crucio!_"

Ginny was in so much pain that she began to laugh uncontrollably.

"What is wrong with kids these days?" Voldemort muttered to himself. He stopped it, seeing as it was getting him no where and she was enjoying herself too much.

"Ha, ha, hoo," Ginny panted. She stuck her hand in her pocket and rummaged around for a cough drop Dumbledore gave her. "Want it? It's BBQ Chicken flavored." Ginny felt strange, offering a cough drop to Harry's nemesis, a man who could potentially kill her if she made the wrong move.

"I don't need a cough drop!" said Voldemort, backing away as if it actually _were_ a virus. "You are just as bad as Potter," Voldemort said. "_Imperio!_"

Ginny was back under the Imperius Curse.

"Well, now that that is settled, I will deal with Potter now." Voldemort turned around to head out the door. A light cough escaped him as he climbed back up the stairs. He looked back at Ginny and at the cough drop in her hand. He was tempted to take it, but over his dead body would he resort to cough drops. He left and locked the door.

Meanwhile, our heroes spent the entire day worrying about Ginny, particularly our main protagonist, Harry Potter. Was she ok? Who took her? Did she leave on her own free will? Who gave them sleeping draught?

Harry's heart, whenever he thought of Ginny, raced a little quicker. He also couldn't stop thinking about her. He kept remembering how beautiful her green eyes were, how silky her hair looked, and how his heart raced when he looked into her eyes... but he shook it off. He had already too much to deal with without having to think of a girl, too... the death of Sirius which was his fault, the classes with Dumbledore, the flu, the prophecy from the ministry...

But Ginny wasn't any girl. She was quite headstrong and could easily defend herself with her well-performed Bat-Bogey Hexes, which were quite impressive. She once liked Harry, too... why couldn't he like her?

_No_, Harry thought He went back to worrying.

Suddenly, he felt very tired. He looked at his watch, and he found it to be almost eleven o'clock at night. The only thing everyone had been doing since Mr. Weasley came home was pace the floors and ask questions about Ginny, as if anyone knew; however, Harry couldn't shake the thought that Mr. Weasley might have something to do with her disappearance.

Harry went to bed. He immediately began to dream. He was floating on pink, purple, and light blue clouds. In the distance, he saw Ginny. She smiled and waved at him. Harry, upon returning the greeting, fell into a red pool. He saw Ginny land there, too. He swam over to her and held her hands, when he was just about to say something to her...

Suddenly, the dream changed. He was at a run-down house by a river. A cold voice spoke.

"So, does MacNair have the girl?"

"Yes, my lord," bowed a cloaked man to the right of the cold-voiced man. They were in front of a fireplace which had green flames.

"Ah, here he comes now," the cold-voiced man said softly as a man clutching a small figure, obviously a girl's, appeared in the fireplace.

"I've got her, my lord," said the man who was MacNair. He held up the girl's limp arm. She looked as though she were dead.

"Excellent. Put her in the basement. Her father is...?"

"Alive."

"Good. We'll see what she knows when she wakes. When we find out where Potter is, we'll kill her. Of course," he said carelessly, "that will be Nagini's job. She hasn't eaten anything fresh in a while." The man looked over at a cowering man in the corner. "Wormtail, aren't you supposed to feed Nagini for your master? _Crucio!_" said the cold-voiced man softly in dangerous tones, pointing his wand at the cowering man named Wormtail in the corner. The cold-voiced man laughed spitefully at him.

The man looked in a nearby mirror. He had pale skin, unnatural red eyes, and slits for a nose...

Harry woke up, his scar in pain. Voldemort had taken Ginny... and they were going to kill her possibly... and something about Mr. Weasley...

"Ron!" said Harry, shaking him as he lay asleep. "Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron, Ron, RON!"

Ron awoke finally, saying, "No, Herminny, nooo... not Draco..."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ginny was taken by Voldemort, he's planning to kill her."

"Uh- what? Harry, what time... the sun isn't even up yet..."

"Ron? Did you hear what I said? About Voldemort going to kill Ginny?"

"Oh, yeah... don't you remember your dream about Sirius? It turned out to be wrong..."

Harry, at the thought of Sirius, felt a pang of guilt and grief.

"Well, yes, Ron... but are you willing to take that chance? Wherever Ginny is, she's got to be with Voldemort... why else would I have seen into his brain?"

"You know, Harry, when you say 'seen into his brain', that sounds completely insane, right?"

"Yeah, a little."

A slight pause followed.

"Ok, mate, let's wake up Hermione... well, actually, she might try to wake us up," said Ron, noting the time on Harry's watch, which said 5:59 am.

"Right. Let's go."


	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12: A Meeting of Authority

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As Harry and Ron told Hermione about the events of Harry's Voldemort dream, the wizard world was facing an onslaught of... you guessed it... the flu. Everywhere you looked, there were people sneezing and coughing. It was even worse if they were holding a wand. In the Daily Prophet, there were various articles of someone holding a wand accidentally cursing people into St. Mungo's because they sneezed too hard, stories of someone destroying buildings with even a light cough, stories of troublemakers pretending to be sick destroying things, and stories of people claiming to have a cure which truly only landed all of its takers in St. Mungo's. There were also a slightly smaller amount of articles about Voldemort, but truly, it was the flu that had grabbed the wizard world's attention.

Meanwhile, in the Ministry of Magic, Fudge had been sacked. He went to tell the Prime Minister of Britain the events that affected both worlds as his last duty. One issue discussed had been the flu.

"The flu?" the Prime Minister said incredulously. "You're afraid of the flu?"

"It's not that funny. People have been having their heads cursed off because of an uncontrollable coughing fit, or a simple little sneeze could knock over an entire building. People have been going crazy between preventing the flu and the return of You-Know-Who."

A short silence followed for a little while until the Prime Minister broke it.

"The flu, though, seriously?"

"Yes, the flu."

The Prime Minister suppressed a giggle.

"It's not that funny. If I was holding my wand and I started sneezing, this entire office of yours could be destroyed in a matter of seconds."

"Are you threatening me?" the Prime Minister questioned while standing up, his good humor suddenly gone.

"No, I'm merely trying to get it through your thick Muggle skull that we are in danger and need your help. Dumbledore already found one way to distribute an anti-virus... the man knows way too much for his age... but seriously, think about it. If we can catch one disease, what's preventing the next one? One more serious, like, the Muggle cold? (the Prime Minister nearly burst into laughter) Next, we'll be living like Muggles because we can't handle our own magic!" Fudge exclaimed, forgetting that he had had his entire staff at the Ministry scrubbing floors only a few days ago.

"Well, I suppose I can help you-"

"Wonderful!" exclaimed Fudge. "Though, seeing as I am no longer Minister, you must address it with Rufus Scrimegour- he's the new guy. He'll be here soon... farewell, Minister." and Fudge Floo-Powdered himself somewhere with the help of the Prime Minister's fireplace.

A few minutes later, a surlier, more serious man appeared in the fireplace.

"Ah, Rufus Scrimegour, new Minister of Magic, I presume?"

"You presume correctly."

There was an awkward silence for a little while. The Prime Minister desired so greatly for this man to leave his office; Rufus added a sort of grimness that did not provide for a friendly atmosphere.

"So, you're going to help us with our flu problem?" Rufus said to break the silence.

"Yes, of course, I don't see why not..."

"How?"

"Well," said the Minister, "we're obviously going to need to get a doctor with the anti-virus... I could make an appointment with the doctor to come with the anti-virus tomorrow... how much will you need?" The Minister still thought it incredulous that a tiny little virus that goes away after a few days of suffering was possibly going to be the ruin of a world run by magic.

"We don't need too much; we can always make more before it runs out."

"Ok... I was hoping for a specific amount, preferably in milliliters..."

"Million-leaders?"

"Oh, yeah, you don't know... never mind."

"You think we're insane, don't you?"

"Why would I think that?"

"We're all terribly afraid for our lives because these two mass-murderers are on the loose."

"Because of that Moldy-guy, right... wait, two? I thought there was one..."

"It's not 'Moldy-guy' it's V- 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', and there are two: him, and the flu."

The Prime Minister, despite the grim atmosphere, giggled a little. He could believe that they were afraid of a mass-murderer... but the flu being categorized as one and being feared like one was a little too much.

"The flu? A... a killer? Minister, I don't think-"

"You don't know what it's like!"

"I do, too; I get it every winter, and so does my wife and three children. We haven't died yet, and we didn't get the shot, either... It is a little unpleasant for a while, about a week or so, but then we're as good as new..."

Rufus shook his head solemnly. "You are putting yourself and your family in danger. You don't understand how powerful and dangerous the flu is!"

The Prime Minister burst into laughter, which echoed throughout the room.

"I'm sorry," the Prime Minister panted when he was done. "I'll of course ask for the doctor to come here tomorrow, and he'll bring the anti-virus. Come back then and pick it up at... around four in the afternoon, I suppose."

"Fine," said Rufus, even surlier at the thought of not being taken seriously. "I bid you good day." With that, Rufus Scrimegour stepped into the fire and Floo-Powdered himself to the Ministry of Magic.

When the Minister of Magic left, the Prime Minster laughed to himself for a little while, regaining his composure before he called the doctor.

For several days afterwards, the Prime Minister was still laughing at the idea of a little flu virus bringing the world to an end.


	13. Chapter 13

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A/N: Hey, thanks for reviewing! In response to your question, no, not everyone will die from the flu.

I never thought of the Death Eater thing... interesting. It's not the direction I'm headed for (possibly), but it's a good idea.

I hope you get better from your cold! I hope this helps you feel a little better... I don't even know how you can read with a cold... my brain loses all function during times of illness, especially my reading comprehension skills.

Enjoy!

Chapter 13: A Meeting at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

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Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, a joke shop opened by the twins, Fred and George Weasley, was booming with business. Not only were shield hats selling like hotcakes (the Ministry ordered them for protection), but also, their new line of gourmet cough drops was a big hit. Sure, it had been, of course, a joke, a twist on a Muggle product used when one had a sore, dry, itchy, or irritated throat (not to mention excessive coughing), but now, it was being taken seriously. Dumbledore had stopped by and gave them some of his assorted ones that he made himself and told the two brothers that they should make a line of the product and sell them. Therefore, the brothers got to work. They first only had a few flavors; now, they had expanded the line to include flavors only Bernie Bott's Every Flavor Beans would dare to have. They even had a 'mystery' one, which changed colors every few minutes, and with the color, the flavor. For example, it was unfortunate if one ate it when it was in the middle of changing colors when the previous flavor was 'barf' and the next was 'slug'. George had experienced this trauma while testing the product. The next best thing would have been to have been actually barfing slugs as Ron had done in his third year.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione were going to Diagon Alley today to see Fred and George. They weren't going for school things, seeing as they had already been dropped off, but rather, they were going for other supplies. If they were going to go get Ginny, they would need stuff, and Fred and George would provide. Harry didn't want anyone dying like the last time he tried to save someone, only a few weeks ago...

Fred and George didn't even know that Ginny had been missing yet. Mrs. Weasley had been too distressed to write a letter to them.

This was the perfect excuse for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to go to the shop. Mrs. Weasley let them go without objection, with a stern warning to be careful- for Voldemort, and for coughing, sneezing wizards.

They used Floo Powder to get there. Harry brought the Invisibility Cloak, but seeing as they didn't need it yet and their feet now showed from the bottom of the cloak when they all wore it, they did not wear it.

Instead, they rushed to the shop.

"Fred, George!" yelled Ron as they entered the crowded shop.

"Ah, look who it is, Fred!" said George, who popped his head out from behind a display of miniature fireworks.

"Why, if it isn't Ronniekins!" said Fred, jumping off a ladder with a Shield Hat.

"Yeah, yeah, guys..." said Ron, looking about as red as his hair.

Harry looked at the jovial pair of twins. "Look, we came for two reasons: one, seriously bad news: Ginny was kidnapped by Voldemort. We know this through my Voldy-sense. Two: we need some DADA stuff if we're going to save her, and we heard that you have a new line of exactly that."

The news of Ginny's disappearance shocked the twins. After a few seconds of letting it sink in, George said, "Seriously? This is bad, Fred."

"No kidding, George," said Fred sarcastically, his jovial personality poking through the somberness. "Luckily, you've heard right. We'd probably mess the whole thing up if we came... but I'd love to set off a few mini-fireworks for You-know-who and friends."

Harry wasn't sure if that meant they were coming or not. Either way, Fred led them to a room full of Defense Against the Dark Arts stuff.

"Well," said Fred, "we've got Shield Hats, along with a whole line of Shield Clothing. Highly fashionable, I say, as George and I modeled them around Diagon Alley... Ministry has been taking a lot of stock on this particular area of our shop- I wouldn't be surprised to find recommendations in their purple posters and packets. We've got a whole lot of good stuff besides that, Harry, look around!"

They looked around and grabbed as much DADA stuff as they could. Just when they were about to leave, Ron saw the cough drop section.

"Ooh, Harry! Look!" There had to be billions of cough drops in various colors and odors. Harry grabbed some.

"You know," said Fred, "These actually have small doses of flu anti-virus in them- Dumbledore gave it to us."

"Brilliant," said Ron, and immediately put one in his mouth. In a short amount of time, Ron spat it out.

"Ew, slug!"

"Ah, little brother, you've experienced the joy of 'mystery flavor', which can change from good to slug any time, even while eating. I recommend you keep it in your mouth, it's bound to change back soon... besides, I don't like cleaning up after you, Ronniekins." Ron reluctantly did so to find that it had pleasantly changed to BBQ chicken.

With the stuff needed in tow, they began to leave.

"Aw, come on, Harry," said George, who they just walked by, "you're seriously not going to let us come, are you?"

"Well..." began Harry, unsure of what to say.

"Of course not!" said Fred. "She's our sister, we have the right to come! Katie," Fred said, calling a purple robed employee, "man the fort while we're gone! We have a sister to save!"

George looked excitedly at Fred. "Oh, man, we finally get to try out our Filibuster Fireworks!"

"Filibuster?" Hermione asked. "Isn't that an annoying technique politicians use?"

"Oh, no, Hermione," said George, " not anymore. Now it's an annoying technique harnessed by the Weasley brothers put into the power of fireworks! It's supposed to hypnotize an opponent... only problem is, right now, it hypnotizes everyone. But we invented glasses to wear during the test to prevent hypnosis... we haven't tested those yet, though."

Hermione looked at him, amazed and terrified that they wanted to test products while possibly confronting Voldemort.

Without a further word, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Fred, and George left the shop.

But not before a run-in with a most unwelcome friend...


	14. Chapter 14

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**Chapter 14: A Close Encounter, a Connection, and a Plan**

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Draco Malfoy looked at the road ahead of him. It was clear... for now. He saw Potter and company enter the cheap joke shop, which meant they would soon come out, and obviously, how could Draco let them leave without saying hello? It would be rude to just ignore them...**

**Right on cue, Harry and friends left the joke shop. He was with the Weasley blood-traitors and that Mudblood. Perfect. **

"**Why, Granger, is that you, or is that dead cat on your face?" Strangely, Hermione did not react angrily, but rather, she seemed not to be paying attention. Luckily, someone else had. **

"**Your mom, Malfoy," said Harry.**

**"What about my mom, Potter?"**

**"Oh, never mind, Malfoy..."**

**"You know, Malfoy, it takes a dead cat to know one," Ron said lamely. **

"**Aw, Ronnie, sticking up for your Mudblood girlfriend? You're not doing too good a job because that comeback stunk. Hey, Mudblood- care to comment?" Again, Hermione showed no reaction, but seemed rather to be in deep thought... about him? She was staring at him, but not directly... was she even blushing? She looked kind of pretty, with her hair blowing in the breeze and her cheeks blushing in a most becoming way...**

**As Malfoy noticed this, Fred, George, Ron, and Harry all attacked Malfoy with a different hex. Draco didn't know what the heck happened to him, he only noticed Hermione's beauty. **

**Wait... Hermione? The Mudblood? Malfoy shuddered, and suddenly realized that he was a gelatinous blob of flesh and tentacles. **

"**We don't have time for this, Malfoy, I hope you understand," said Harry coolly. "We're going to go see your daddy's boss, VOLDEMORT. Maybe you know him as Voldy, you're so close?" **

**Malfoy didn't answer, but not because he was incapable (which he was not, since his mouth was a puddle of goo); he was still trying to shake off the fact that he disgusting thought Hermione had looked pretty. What would his friends think of this? Malfoy shook it off and realized that Hermione was gone, along with Potter and the rest of them. **

**Malfoy thought to himself, _Who am I kidding, I hate all of them, especially that Mudblood... or do I? _**

**Leaving Malfoy, we follow our heroes...**

"**Hermione! Didn't you even care that we all jumped Malfoy for you?"**

**They were all searching for a dark, deserted alley as nonchalantly as they could. They needed a secretive place to formulate a rescue plan for Ginny, where they would not be overheard or disturbed.**

"**What?" said Hermione, snapping out of a daze. **

"**We jumped Malfoy for you, and all you do is stand there! You didn't even care when he called you a Mudblood!"**

"**Ron, just because I was standing there doesn't mean I didn't care. I thank you for endangering the welfare of Malfoy for my sake, but Ron, there's no need to get crazy over it! Ever since you said you thought I was in love with Malfoy, you've been seriously weird to me!"**

**Everyone was used to their bickering, but upon hearing "in love with Malfoy" they all stopped dead in their tracks. **

"**W-what?" said Fred. "Hermione in love with _Malfoy_!" The thought was so incredible, so strange, so unlikely, that the thought of it being true was enough to stop the world from spinning, if it was possible.**

"**No, Fred, Ron had a stupid dream-"**

"**Yeah, but you said that you wanted him-"**

"**That was a stupid lie, Ron! Let it go! Let it die! I swear, if there is one thing I never do again, it'll be to lie in your presence, Ron-"**

"**Well, good, then maybe your true feelings for idiots won't come blubbering out-"**

"**Oh, Ron, you're- you're- impossible!"**

"**No, maybe you are. Getting desperate? Miss dear old Vicky so much that you'll settle for anybody now?"**

"**Ron!"**

**"Well?"**

**Hermione ran ahead of them. She seemed to be crying. **

"**Ron," said Harry, who was now trying to catch up with Hermione, "we don't have time for you to argue with Hermione right now, we have to save Ginny!" Harry's heart flipped a little at the thought of her. **

**They all caught up with Hermione, who obviously was trying to forget her argument with Ron but was failing. **

"**Here's a place, Harry," said Hermione, not looking into anyone's eyes. **

"**Ok, excellent, Hermione," said Harry gently. Hermione looked rather fragile. **

**They all piled into the found alley, with Harry in the lead. Hermione went in second to avoid Ron, Fred and George awkwardly came next, and Ron last. Ron was either grumpy or guilty over his argument with Hermione. **

"**Alright, now, I need you two to be able to work together, so make up, now," Harry ordered solemnly. **

**Ron had a hard time saying that he was sorry as much as Hermione had forgiving him. **

"**Ok, now that that is dealt with for now. Does anybody know how we're going to get to a deserted house in Britain with Voldemort and a bunch of Death Eaters lounging around?"**

**Silence ensued, but everyone cringed at Voldemort's name being mentioned so nonchalantly.**

"**I'll take that as a no," said Harry after a few silent seconds. "Ok, does anybody know where we could get directions?"**

"**Well," said George, "there's a Squib who sometimes comes down to Diagon Alley who knows his way around Britain... he was a tack- a tacks - a something driver for the Muggles, but he's retired now. He is almost always at the Leaky Cauldron. Perhaps we can talk to him?"**

"**Excellent. We're looking for a run-down house by a river... I think it's near London somewhere, because it seems somewhat familiar to me personally from when we went to London on holiday... well, the Dursleys went, I stayed in the car for a week... George, you and Ron go find the Squib and ask him for directions. Ron, relay the location of the house from my dream to the Squib. Hermione, Fred and I will work something out and fill you two in when you get back." George immediately took Ron's hand and Apparated. Ron had a look of pure terror on his face when he realized what George was doing. When they were gone, Harry thought he saw a smirk on Hermione's face. **

"**Well, ok, so, what's the plan?"**


	15. Chapter 15

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Chapter 15: Preparations, Snape Thoughts, and Draco's First Assignment

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"They're coming. Prepare for our guests, Wormtail."

"Yes, my lord," Wormtail squeaked. He left the room.

"Severus, the girl's hair was added to the potion, was it not?"

"Yes, my lord," Snape's voice drawled, "it's been readily added. I must say, that girl has a gold mine of hair... so thick and grows back quickly..."

"Never mind how quickly her hair grows," Voldemort said impatiently, "you need leave, just for the night. I can't have Potter suspecting you for conspiracy."

"He already does."

"Silence!" Voldemort said. "Severus, you're causing me to be impatient. Leave me. But before you do, I have something I'd like you to do."

"Yes?"

"Bring me Lucius' boy."

"Draco?"

"No, I meant the other one," said Voldemort sarcastically. "Of course Draco!"

"Yeah, ok," Snape drawled, almost sounding bored.

"And also, bring some more Sleeping Draught and Veritaserum for our guests."

"Yeah, fine, whatever... I am very loathe to get rid of the Veritaserum, though, it takes so long to make and then you're going to waste it on Potter and company? Ugh... what a waste..."

"Silence!" Voldemort demanded. Snape Disapparated sourly.

Voldemort was left wondering why Snape had treated him with such utter disregard...

Snape Disapparated. It would seem that he put too much Felix Felicis in his morning cup o' joe.

_Oh well_, Snape thought, _so, I can be a bit reckless if I felt like. It's not like I'm going to be killed. I'll explain later- he knew that nothing can possibly go wrong today or else, so I took an extra precaution. I suppose I'll just do what he says, though... that's what Felix tells me to do. Hey, the little voice inside my head sounds a lot like my own drawling voice. Whoopee. _

What caused that brief moment of insanity in Snape's head, not even he would know.

He arrived on Narcissa Malfoy's premises, at which he knocked the door.

"Hello?" said the voice of a male.

"Draco, is that you?" said Snape, bored.

"Yeah," said Draco, sounding confused as to the identity of the caller, for he had not yet opened the door.

"Open the door, boy."

Draco was obedient.

"Professor! Welcome..."

"I didn't come for the Draco Malfoy social hour, I came to fetch you. The Dark Lord requires you."

"He- he needs- me? The Dark Lord needs--"

"Yes," said Snape rolling his eyes, "otherwise, I wouldn't have come. Where's your mother?"

"Upstairs."

"Good, don't call her. Let's go, Draco."

"Now?" he said, bewildered at the suddenness of the matter.

"Yes, now," snapped Snape, "why else would I have called at this hour? For a spot of tea and scones? Come now, Draco, he grows impatient when progress is slowed."

Snape grabbed Draco's arm and Disapparated. Draco Malfoy was extremely caught off guard...

Draco knew his mom was definitely not going to like this. He figured that he'd just say he was outside or whatever. He'd make something up on the spur of the moment.

But now, he was wondering excitedly and confusedly. What did the Dark Lord need him for? When they stopped Apparating, He found that he was suddenly in a large chamber full of different potions, with several large windows and cabinets and tables everywhere. Snape let go of Draco's arm and began searching, muttering something inaudible under his breath. Snape grabbed two cauldrons of a thick brown potion and held a small bottle of a clear potion.

"Alright, Draco, let's go."

"What are these potions for?"

"For the Dark Lord! Who else? No questions!" Snape quickly grabbed Draco's arm, once the potions he had were secured, and Disapparated.

Draco was feeling a little disoriented from the Apparating. He had never experienced it before today.

"Here, my lord, the boy and the potions," said Snape. He placed the thick brown potions by MacNair, who in turn Disapparated with them in hand. Snape, however, kept the clear one.

"Ah, thank you, Severus. Now, you must leave. I will be expecting an explanation for your strange behavior--but first, give me the Veritaserum."

Snape handed it over reluctantly and Disapparated, leaving Draco alone with Voldemort. From the position he was standing, Draco could only see the back of Voldemort's chair and the fire in the fireplace.

"Come here, Draco," said Voldemort in a soft, chilling voice. Draco was excited and terrified at the same time. He took a few nervous steps towards him. Draco, seeing a cowering, rat-like man in the corner, did not help his nerves.

"Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you, Draco," said the chilling voice.

Draco finally came around the chair where Voldemort sat and beheld him for the first time. A man wearing a serpent-crested, hooded, dark cloak casting shadows on blood-red eyes, a slitted nose, and pale white skin imprinted themselves into Draco's brain as the Dark Lord. Voldemort sat in the chair with a powerful, dangerous, and cunning aura about him, like a unpredictable serpantly king. Draco was too terrified and stunned to speak. His knees began to give way from fear.

"Ah, I see you are different from Potter," said Voldemort slyly, "you respect your betters."

"Y-you mean, P-potter d-didn't-"

"Oh, no, he didn't." Draco saw anger flash in Voldemort's eyes. "He, in fact, made light of me. That silly little girl who I have captive is no better." A triumphant calm came over Voldemort. "Of course, it won't matter soon enough. I have a plan that Potter could not possibly ruin, and, Draco, you are part of it."

"Me?"

"Yes. You remember Granger?"

"Yes, the Mudblood."

"Yes. She's been known for her intelligence, and also for being a friend of Potter's. Well, I need you to gain her trust. Love potions are most effective. I know it may seem disgusting, I know, to have a Mudblood in love with you, but I need her to be distracted from learning, and I need that blood-traitor, Weasley, to be jealous. I need all of Harry's friends to leave him defenseless. I think that the blood-traitor and the Mudblood are in love with each other-- how disgraceful-- but I need to know for sure. I need to make sure he receives this Veritaserum when he comes here with Potter-- oh, yes, Draco, they are foolish enough to decide to come here and risk their lives for a silly little girl. They are trying to come here even as we speak.

"You will have a greater assignment, trust me, which will be revealed to you when the time comes. When you see Potter and Ginny at school, I will need you to collect hairs from them. We have a special Polyjuice Potion itching for their DNA... this will only be necessary if the other part of my plan fails."

"So..." said Draco, "you want me to make a love potion, have Granger fall in love with me, and make Ron as jealous as possible, all the while collecting hair from Potter and Ginny?"

"Yes. There is also a greater mission which I will entrust to you before you leave for school in a few days."

A pause followed.

"Ok. What should I tell my friends?"

"I shall tell them myself that it was my doing."

"Ok..."

"You refer to me as 'my lord' now, Draco. I am your lord."

"Ok... my lord."

"You'll get used to it. I'll have Crabbe take you home." Immediately Crabbe (the adult, not the child) Apparated in.

Voldemort nodded his head slightly towards Draco. Crabbe nodded, grabbed Draco's arm, and Disapparated.


	16. Chapter 16

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Chapter 16: An Attempted Rescue and a Dark Victory

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Ron and George had found the Squib who knew his way around Britain. At first, he gave them vague directions to somewhere in Spain and spoke about how lovely it is there this time of year. After much frustration, they managed to secure a map of England from the Squib with the names of several possible locations from Harry's dream near London circled on it. They finally returned with the map and gave it to Harry. Ron kept looking at Hermione whenever he had the chance, but he would hide his face from her when she looked back. Harry, at the moment, did not care about the problems between his two best friends, for his mind was preoccupied.

Their plan was: Fred and Ron were to create a diversion with mini-rockets while Hermione and George came with Harry. They were to fight off any Death Eaters and warn Harry if any came. Meanwhile, Harry would try to find the place where Ginny was and help her to escape. Harry would have preferred to have Ron and Hermione at his side, but under the circumstances, Hermione refused to work with Ron. It was a loosely organized plan, and they hoped that it would work. With the plan settled, they Disapparated. Ron had suggested Floo Powder because he did not want to go through with Apparating with George again, but Hermione shot down the idea; partially because she remembered from Harry's dream that Voldemort had a fireplace; partially because they didn't know the exact name of the place they were traveling to; and partially because she wanted to see the look on Ron's face as he side-along Apparated with George again.

They had to Apparate several times before Harry recognized the exact place from his dream.

"Well, Harry, look familiar?"

"Um... hold on..."said Harry. He waited for the dizziness he felt from Apparating to dissipate and then checked out the scenery. It was the same exact place.

"Yep, this is it, guys! No more Apparating!"

"YES!" yelled Ron happily, relieved to be on solid ground.

"Gee, Ron, I don't think you said that quite loudly enough," said Fred.

"Yeah," continued George, "with you around, You-Know-Who won't need any of these Extendable Ears... in fact, he might need earplugs."

"Sorry, guys," Ron mumbled, turning as red as his hair.

"Forget it, Ron, let's just go already," Harry said, anxious to continue.

Meanwhile...

"They're here," said Voldemort, "I can see them through Potter's mind. Wormtail, fetch Nagini. I will have her watch Potter. I grow tired of tracking Potter." Voldemort coughed lightly.

Wormtail immediately left, whimpering.

"Oh, Harry, you cannot possibly escape from this," whispered Voldemort to himself, and he let a small triumphant, bone-chilling laugh escape from his lips, and a few bronchial coughs.

Back to our young and dashing protagonists...

"Ok, Fred, Ron, you know what to do. Hermione, George, cover me." Ron and Fred split up from the group and Hermione and George stayed with Harry. Harry felt that as if they were being watched.

"Well, this is going to be quite fun," said George. "I hope Fred brought the Ton-Tongue Toffee. Can you imagine Bellatrix Lestrange with a four foot tongue? Ha ha!" George's joviality in the face of death did not sit well with Hermione, who was paired with him in this rescue mission.

Harry began to head down a different corridor from Fred and Ron. He found a small flight of stairs, heading down to a door. It was completely unguarded, but it was easy to tell that someone was inside, as two voices were heard. Harry was just about to pass it when he thought he heard someone crying in the room.

"Harry, is someone crying down there?"

"Um... I can't see through walls, Hermione."

"Sorry..."

Harry suddenly heard a hissing voice behind them. "Mussst watch Potter... fresh meat... wish to kill..."

Harry quickly turned around and said "_Immobilis!_" and a beam of light came out of his wand. It hit a large purple snake which immediately froze. Harry felt his scar burn inconsolably, and the pain brought him to the ground.

"Harry?" said Hermione. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, yeah, doing great, Hermione. I hear a snake behind me telling me that it's watching me and it wants to kill and eat me, my scar is ripping my forehead in half, so Voldemort is obviously nearby... I feel great, Hermione."

"You're almost as bad as Ron," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

Harry looked at the frozen snake. It looked familiar... he remembered that he saw that snake the day he was at the graveyard with Cedric and Voldemort.

"I think that was Nagini, Voldemort's snake," Harry realized aloud.

"Well, stop thinking and start saving! You're 'the chosen one', not me," said George, tired of standing in one place. Harry shrugged and began to walk down the stairs to investigate who was crying and who else was in the room.

"Cover me," said Harry. "If things get bad, Disapparate. I'll find a way out... somehow... is that a sign over there?" asked Harry, pointing to the wall.

"Yep. It says that we are here, which is in the main dungeon corridor. The exit is down the hall and to a left, and it says 'The Dark Lord resides in Sector 48 B', which is down the hall the opposite way, up the stairs and to the left."

"Well, that solves that problem. At least I won't get lost."

"Harry, be careful."

"I will be. Cover me." He started down the stairs.

Harry felt sort of scared. He wasn't sure to expect. Voldemortwasn't grandstanding like he usually did. He usually would have Harry in front of him and his Death Eaters and say something to the effect of, "before your very eyes, I shall make this boy _disappear!_" and get oohs and ahhs from the crowd. He was like a Muggle magician that way. Harry smirked at the thought of Voldemort pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

Harry got to the door, which turned out to be locked. He opened it with an "Alohamora!". Strange. He thought it would be more difficult than that. Things were definitely different this time.

He looked inside and saw a sobbing, red-haired girl. He entered the room cautiously, watching out for any other person.

"Ginny?"

The girl turned around and looked into his eyes through her tear-streaked ones. Harry felt a strong urge to kiss her, but he shook it off. _What the heck is wrong with me? _he thought._ I don't like Ginny that way... right?_

"We have to get out of here before Voldemort--"

"--before I what, Potter?"

Harry turned around and saw his slightly sickly enemy.

"Ah, I see you have not fully recovered yet?" Harry said recklessly.

"Shut up, Potter."

"You know, I actually have a few cough drops here, Voldy..."

"I don't care what you have! And NEVER call me 'Voldy'! _Crucio!_" Harry, who had grabbed his wand, was about to disarm Voldemort, but he was not quick enough. Ginny began laughing haughtily, in a way most unlike herself.

When Voldemort finished torturing Harry, he used _Immoblilis_ on him. "By the way, Potter, this isn't Ginny. You've stupidly fallen into my trap, and so have the rest of your friends. They won't remember any of this by the time I'm done with them. Oh, no, I am not going to kill you or them--not until I get what I need. Aw, upset that you may never see them all again? Or your precious little Ginny? I can see into your mind, Potter, I know your thoughts, I know you have begun to fall in love with her. It's rather sad to see that you've chosen to be like that weak-hearted Dumbledore." Voldemort smiled slyly and laughed in his bone-chilling manner, ending in a few coughs becoming of a villain. The girl who looked like Ginny laughed with him.

"You know who this is soon enough. By the time you do, I might be finished dealing with your friends... or maybe not. Maybe I'll make them suffer a little... or a lot. If you try to escape to rescue them or yourself, which I know you'll be stupid enough to try, you won't make it past the door. It's now heavily guarded, you see." Voldemort turned to leave.

"You are mine, Potter. You can't escape from Lord Voldemort." He looked directly into Harry's electric green eyes, and Harry's scar erupted in pain. He could not move because of the curse Voldemort placed on him. Voldemort left him, laughing.

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Bottom of Form


	17. Chapter 17

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Chapter 17: Veritaserum

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Ron came around. He felt like he had been hit by a Bludger. He couldn't remember anything clearly. Where was he, and why was he here?

The details were vague: he and Fred were doing something... they heard someone coming... that's all he could remember.

He tried to move around only to find that he was chained to a wall. He looked around him to find that he was alone. When he looked down, he wished he hadn't. There were spiders crawling everywhere. Oh, how he hated spiders.

He wondered what happened to Fred. He had been with him... and what about Hermione? He would kill himself if he found out that something had happened to her.

The door opened. Three cloaked men entered. One had red eyes glowing under his hood, who coughed lightly every now and then. Ron knew this one to be Voldemort. He was immediately terrified. Was he going to be killed?

But his terror didn't come out the way he wanted. He yelled out, "Whoa, UGLY! How on earth did you get red eyes? That's so weird! You look like an alien!" His fear immediately dissipated and a reckless bravery took over. He thought about what Hermione would say...

"Silence! Are all Gryffindors like this?"

"Want a cough drop?"

"NO! _Silencio!_" Ron mouth kept moving, but no sound came out. Voldemort wondered why he hadn't thought of that before.

"I've been waiting to do that on Potter for so long. Brilliant, my lord," said one cloaked voice and the other said, "Haha, Weasley... m-my l-lord." Both sounded familiar to Ron.

"Yes, yes," said Voldemort indifferently. "Do you know what is in this bottle?" he asked Ron, holding up a crystal vial with a clear liquid in it.

Ron's mouth moved, but no sound. Voldemort lifted the charm.

"Woo, thanks, thought I was going insane."

"Maybe you are," muttered one cloaked man. He sounded an awful lot like...

"Draco? Malfoy, is that you? I knew your dad worked for him, but _you_? You, who got beaten up by Hermione... haha... you..."

Draco lunged towards him, but Voldemort held out a hand quickly- "No, Draco, don't waste your energy on this blood traitor. You shall soon know his innermost thoughts, and then you shall have power over him."

Ron looked at him quickly. "What you talking about, Voldy?"

"This potion. Its power. Don't you recognize it?"

Ron studied it. "Nope, not in the least... Hermione might know though... I called you Voldy, haha... can't wait to tell Harry!"

"No wonder you do so poorly in Potions. This is Veritaserum. Do you know what it does?"

"Uh... Hermione said something about it once... it makes you... tell the truth, right?"

"Yes, put in the words of a 5-year-old."

"And this has to do with me how?"

"Well, Weasley, the truth will set you, your siblings, and your friends free...maybe."

"I've heard something like that that before... 'and the truth shall set you free' or something like that..."

"It's great to hear that your brain gets put to use once in a while. Well, by telling the truth, you will help me."

"What if I don't want to help you?"

"Your friends and you all die, slowly, painfully, and unmercifully, starting with the Mudblood. I'll torture her the longest."

"Like I said, when do I start?"

Voldemort laughed. _Ah, the ways of the weak-hearted_, he thought. "Right now." Voldemort opened the bottle and gave it to the anonymous yet still familiar cloaked man, who put a drop of Veritaserum into Ron's mouth reluctantly. Ron, upon receiving it, immediately had a glazed look in his eyes.

"Alright," said Voldemort, "Let's get right to the point. Are you or are you not in love with Granger, the Mudblood?"

"Yes," said Ron in a monotone.

Draco cringed at the thought. But somehow, deep down, he didn't find it so unreasonable... Draco shook off the thought, disgusted with it. He thought about Pansy...

"That was simple. Ah, but why stop there?" Voldemort said greedily. "Draco, you may leave, and Severus, you accompany him... wait, didn't I tell you to leave? Well, whatever (Felix Felicis was still working well for Severus). You know what you must do now. Give Draco all the needed ingredients and a room to make it in... preferably a secluded room, you know I can't stand the smell of love potion. I shall continue in interrogating Weasley."

Draco and the cloaked man left.

"So, what is Harry Potter's weakness?"

"Dementors."

"Can he produce a Patronus?"

"Yes. It takes the shape of a stag. It is a full-blown Patronus."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes. I believe that he might be in love with Ginny."

"Really? Excellent. This is much better than what I expected. You're done for now, Weasley. But I can't have you remembering this... any of this..."

Voldemort used a memory charm on Ron, as he would do with the rest of them... but not Harry or Ginny. He would also use a Confundus Charm on them to make them believe that they had outsmarted him _(Like that would ever happen_, thought Voldemort) He would set all but the two free. That was where the Polyjuice Potion would come in. Voldemort's plan was going brilliantly, even better than he imagined. He called in Bellatrix Lestrange and MacNair for a new assignment.


	18. Chapter 18

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Chapter 18: Back to Normal and A Meeting Between Them

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Hermione woke up in her room at the Burrow. 6 o'clock. She remembered the events of the day.

They had broken into Voldemort's dwelling place and saved Ginny. Not even a single encounter with Voldemort... it was strange.

Well, things were back to normal. They were greeted at home with much joy and happiness at the arrival of Ginny. In the process, Hermione and Ron had made up.

Now Hermione looked over to her right. Ginny was breathing lightly. Every now and then, she would take a drink of something out of a small bottle. Hermione had asked what it was, and Ginny told her that she was drinking a potion that would cure shock. It's not every day one gets kidnapped by Voldemort. Ginny didn't talk much after the rescue, though, and neither did Harry...Hermione understood, though. She knew Harry would recount the details with her and Ron later. She got out of bed to finish her Potions book... after all, school started tomorrow.

Down one floor, Ron woke up. He heard the sounds of Hermione's footsteps upstairs. He really did love to hear them in the morning, even though he hated getting woken up by them so early.

He felt so strange, almost as if he had exposed his secret to someone... but he would remember if he had, wouldn't he?

_If Hermione really did love Malfoy_, he thought, _she wouldn't care if I really did... have feelings for her. _

Ron remembered painfully the fight he had with Hermione yesterday. He felt awful about it. He wanted to tell her how he really felt about her... but he couldn't. He wouldn't let himself do it. He couldn't handle it if he found out that she was in love with Victor Krum, or Malfoy... at least Hermione said that she could forgive him. She even said that she worried if she would ever see him again while she was with Harry and George.

Malfoy. Something about him struck a chord with Ron, more than usual. He felt like something had happened, like he had told him something he shouldn't have...

He only remembered being with George, setting off fireworks, and then leaving with the rest, Harry saying that they had outsmarted Voldemort... or something... it was all very fuzzy to Ron.

But he didn't care... Fred and George were back at the shop, making Galleons, Ginny was back, mom and dad were happy, Harry wasn't dismembered by Voldemort, and Hermione was still ok...

Ron sighed happily at the thought of her. He turned over in bed and tried to go back to sleep, at least for another hour or two...

Meanwhile, Harry woke up. He was not in bed, but still in the dungeon (home-made in a basement) where he was immobilized. He looked across the room, realizing that he was in chains. He saw a red-haired girl, crying, in the corner.

"Ginny?" Harry asked, heart racing. "Is that really you?"

"Yes," said she in a quiet whisper that echoed around the cavernous basement. She was in chains as well.

"Ok, so, to make sure, I'm going to ask you a question. What's your favorite cough drop?"

"Strawberry ice cream."

"And your favorite hex on Malfoy?"

"The Bat-Bogey Hex."

"Ah, Gin, that's really you," Harry said relieved. Then he remembered that she was crying.

"Gin, what's wrong?"

"Harry..."

"Yes?"

"We're never going to get out of here, are we?"

"I wouldn't say that," Harry mumbled.

"Well, you're in chains, Harry, wandless, and so am I. What the heck are we going to do to get out?"

"Well... I don't know. But feeling sorry for us isn't going to help," said Harry, checking to see if he really was wandless, which he was.

"Well," said Ginny, "how are we going to get out of here?"

"Well... I guess we have one way out of here that won't involve running into twelve trillion armed Death Eaters, a hungry snake, and a sick Voldemort. But, of course, it'd be hard, since I've never tried it before..."

"You don't mean...?"

"Yeah, I do..."

"But you've never tried it before. You wouldn't even know the basics of Apparating."

"This is true."

"And people have been dismembered trying."

"This is also true. Unless you have a better idea, then we're going to be stuck here."

"Why don't we steal a Death Eater's wand?"

"Hm... well, I suppose that'd be easier than attempting something that could possibly dismember me."

"Yeah, exactly what I was thinking," said Ginny sarcastically. "Look, if we're going to get out of here, we need to take a few risks. Are you with me?"

"Yes."

"Ok. Now, let's make a plan that's better than your one that got you here."

"Gee, thanks for your confidence in me, Gin."

"I do admit, it must have been a little hard to find this place, since you were looking for something vaguely around London..."

"How did you know that?"

"Voldemort was shooting the breeze with Bellatrix."

"Oh. Did you know that she--"

"Drank Polyjuice Potion to look like me? Yes. I bet you don't know that she right now is in my house disguised as me and MacNair as you."

"Er...I do now."

Ginny laughed. "The 'chosen one' doesn't even know Voldemort's plan as well I do!"

"Yeah..."

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You know, you have really nice eyes."

"Thanks, Gin. You do too."

"Thanks." Suddenly, Ginny turned her head quickly to the door.

"Someone's coming!"


End file.
